But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?

Stealing it, in a sick kind of sense, was like earning it.

When finally she finished and stood herself up, he put his arm around her, best-buddy style, and they walked on. There was no request for a kiss. Nothing like that. You can love Rudy for that, if you like.

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this.

I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that rarely do I ever simply estimate it.

The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole. . .

Crowds of questions stream through me like lines of people exiting a soccer ground or a concert. They push and shove and trip. Some make their way around. Some remain in their seats, waiting for their opportunity.